


villains come in pretty colors

by lavendersun



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, DNF, Dream Smp, Dream escapes prison, GeorgeNotFound Visits Clay | Dream in Prison (Video Blogging RPF), M/M, Prisoner Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Has PTSD (Video Blogging RPF), canon dream smp, literally canon but with george lore because we're starved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-20 21:22:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30011142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavendersun/pseuds/lavendersun
Summary: A canon-compliant dsmp fic. George visits Dream in jail, which sets off a string of events that could potentially lead to the end of everything.
Relationships: Background Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	1. "Night, Tommy"

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brookelikescheese](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brookelikescheese/gifts).



> i was forced this by my best friend, who keeps me going even on my hardest days <3 dedicated to ur self-hating sexy ass

_ If I have to spend one more damn minute in this fucking cell I will beat this fucker to death. _

Tommy’s head rested against the warm obsidian, the heat pulsing behind his back and infecting his thoughts. Dream sat across from him, dressed in his standard prison uniform and his  _ stupid  _ mask. He’d lost track of time a long time ago, but he was completely positive it had been longer than a week.

Slowly but surely, he was deteriorating. Eating raw potatoes and spending every single second in a tiny cell with your greatest enemy would do that to a person. 

“Tommy.”

Tommy didn’t respond.

“Tommy.”

Nothing.

“Tommy, are you kidding? We’re stuck in here together. You can’t avoid talking to me.”

“Sure, I can.”

“Come on. It can’t be that bad. We have food. We have each other, right? Just like old times.”

“We’re not friends. I fucking hate you.”

Dream sighed. “I’m trying not to be miserable, Tommy. You’re doing this to yourself.”

“You did something. I know you’re behind this, getting me locked in here. Just let me out, Dream.”

“I  _ can’t _ . We can’t get out.”

Tommy had a good enough awareness to know that their potatoes would be dispensed soon. Which also meant it was time for his daily call for help.

He cleared his throat and walked as close to the lava barrier as he could without the heat singing his hair, and he started to yell. “SAM! Sam, let me out!”

Dream scoffed from behind him. “Nobody’s coming to let you out. I told you; I tried calling for my friends too. They never came.”

“Aww, your Gogy didn’t come and rescue you, you poor thing? Because you’re so innocent.”

“I’ve done everything for a reason.”

“I don’t care about your morals. I want out.”

Something about today was different. He heard the mic crackle, then Sam’s voice. “Tommy?”

“Sam! Sam, let me out!”

“Tommy… you signed the contract. It shouldn’t be much longer, I swear.”

“It’s been ages! You still haven’t found out what those explosions were?”

“I can’t find any evidence of what happened. I’m sorry, but you have to abide by the contract.”

“You can’t leave me in here, Sam! You can’t leave me in here with him!”

“I’m sorry, Tommy.”

“Sam!”

But there was no response. Tommy flung himself to the ground beside where Dream stored his books. His stupid fucking books.

“Dream.”

“Yes?” 

Was Tommy delusional or did that sick bastard look genuinely happy to speak to Tommy? Was he fucking crazy?

“I want you to tell me where the revival book is.”

Dream snorted. “Why would I do that?”

“Don’t be a fucking dickhead.”

“You’re going to use it to help your friends. You’ll bring back Wilbur, and that’s something that I don’t want.”

“Can you stop being such a fucking asswipe? You’re in fucking jail. It’s not going to affect you.”

“I’m going to get out.” Dream stalked over to Tommy, snatching one of his books out of the box that held them. He flipped the pages manically, desperately. “I  _ will  _ get out, Tommy.”

“Just shut up, Dream. You’re not getting out of here, so just fucking stop, alright? Tell me where the fucking book is.”

“So you can use it when Tubbo or one of your other stupid friends dies? Is that why you want it?”

“ _ When _ Tubbo dies?”

Bastard.

“If,” Dream muttered, starting to pace back and forth. “If Tubbo dies. I’ll never let you use the revive book for one of your friends. Ever.”

“It’s not up to you.” Being in this cell really was getting to him. Listening to Dream talk all day did nothing but give Tommy the urge to punch something.

“Really? Because I’m the only one who knows where that book is. And you’re just as trapped as I am.”

Perhaps today was a day for acting on urges. Tommy’s fist connected with Dream’s jaw with an unbelievably satisfying crack. Dream stumbled, his eyes flashing. 

“You’re probably lying about the fucking book anyway. How would Schlatt have even gotten it?”

“Why would I lie to you, Tommy?” Dream gazed at Tommy, a feral, deranged look gracing his prison-hardened features. “I have no reason to lie.”

“Bullshit!” Tommy swung once more, but Dream dodged left, his knee coming up to meet with Tommy’s stomach. He winced, faltering at the pain, which gave Dream the perfect amount of time to punch him.

Tommy fell against the wall, his head swimming. He tried to regain his balance, but Dream stood before him.

“I’m a God, Tommy. You’re nothing.”

“You’re a fucking psychopath with no fucking friends, Dream.”

He probably should’ve thought of a better thing to say, but his head was spinning and he had no time to react when Dream gripped his hair in a fist and slammed his head against the wall.

  
  
  


The situation was so odd. What could he do but laugh?

Tommy, once his friend, once his enemy, dead.

Laughter bubbled past his lips in a torrent. At first, he truly hadn’t intended to kill Tommy. But this wouldn’t be a setback. He was still Dream, he was still a God. Tommy was nothing more than a child.

_ Is this real?  _ Part of him wanted this all to be a fever dream. He would wake up in the cell, Tommy singing his stupid songs and screaming at Dream, and Dream would be happy because he would be  _ alive _ . Tommy wasn’t  _ supposed  _ to die like this.

_ Yes, he was _ .

His hands were shaking and he was still laughing, but his body didn’t even seem to belong to him anymore. Who was he? Where was he?

Dream. The prison.

He was reverting to the crazed stage he’d been in after he’d first been put in here. He’d spent hours every day screaming for George, for Sapnap. His two best friends, the two people he’d been with from the beginning. Why weren’t they coming for him? Why wasn’t George visiting?

“George?” he whispered, stepping away from Tommy. 

He could see his friend right in front of him. Maybe he was actually there. “Dream?”

“Do you miss me?”

“I’m right here.”

Was he talking to a wall? Or was George actually standing in front of him?

“I didn’t want to kill him.”

“You did, though.”

“I wanted to kill him.”

His head pounded, and he dropped to the ground. “George, I’m tired.”

George sat beside him, and Dream realized that it was all a fantasy. George wasn’t actually here. The real George had darker hair than Fake George. Real George had brighter eyes, and was shorter. 

“You’re not real.”

“Well, obviously, Dream.” His voice, his accent. It made Dream feel so… at home.

“I want to leave.”

“You’ve done bad things; you need to stay in here.”

“Come visit me.”

“Dream… I’m not actually here.”

“Pretend.”

“You’re doing this. You’re imagining this.”

The side of Dream that wasn’t losing it knew he was alone in this cell, and that George would never come visit him. But the crazed side of him wanted to win, and Dream was too exhausted to fight back.

Fake George rested a hand on Dream’s cheek. “You’re a bad man, Dream.”

He nodded, closing his eyes. 

“Didn’t I say I’d be by your side forever, Dream?”

He nodded again.

“I guess that means I’ll be by your side for as long as you’re sentenced to stay in here. That’s something to look forward to.”

He wished it was real. He wished he wasn’t going insane in this cell. He wished he hadn’t killed Tommy. He was glad he had killed Tommy.

“You need to sleep.”

The hand fell from his face, and Dream reached blindly for it. “Don’t go.”

There was no response, and the sharp realization that he was sitting in a cell, a dead body mere feet from him, talking to imaginary people hit him as swift as Tommy’s first punch. 

“Night, Tommy,” he whispered and slumped against the wall. Sleep arrived mercifully for the first time of his imprisonment.


	2. everything stays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope y'all like this one :) i made my friend cry with it so

The construction of Bee N’ Boo Hotel was running smoothly; Ranboo couldn’t genuinely ask for anything else. This was his fresh start, his method of escape from whatever Dream was doing to him. Setting up a business with Tubbo was exactly the distraction he needed.

The goat-hybrid was leaning against a construction pole, gazing at the finished first floor. He planted his hands on his hips with a satisfied smile. “Bee N’ Boo.”

“We’re now business partners,” Ranboo laughed. 

“The best hotel on the Prime Path,” Tubbo said. “Better than Tommy’s.”

“Where  _ is  _ Tommy?” Ranboo asked, shuffling construction plans off the table so he could sit beside Tubbo. “I haven’t seen him for a while.”

Tubbo shrugged. “He hired Jack Manifold. We could ask him.”

They headed outside, swords drawn, though there was hardly a reason. Tommy’s hotel was close enough to theirs that they could walk quickly without running into any danger.

In the lobby, Jack was sitting behind the desk, his legs propped up.

“My business rivals. Welcome!”

“Do you know where Tommy is?”

“Trapped in jail with Dream. You didn’t hear?”

Tubbo shook his head. “How?”

“There were some explosions awhile back while Tommy was visiting, so Sam kept him in there.”

“He’s still not out?” Ranboo asked, stepping up beside Tubbo. He hadn’t talked to Jack much, but the guy had always seemed odd. He’d seen him following Tommy around not too long ago, before Tommy apparently got locked up.

Jack nodded. “You could ask Sam about it.”

“To the prison we go,” Ranboo said with a shrug. 

Him and Tubbo walked along the Prime Path, neither of them speaking. It was a comfortable silence, and Ranboo tried desperately to calm his nerves.

Tommy had been locked up 3 weeks ago. Ranboo had seen the contracts to the prison; Tommy should be out by now.

Sam was waiting out front, almost as if he had anticipated their visit. 

“Sam,” Ranboo said, waving cautiously. The warden was intimidating, with his netherite armor, and his sword always drawn.

“Tubbo, Ranboo, Jack.” The warden nodded a greeting. “Have you… come to ask about Tommy?”

“Yeah,” Jack said, stepping in front of Ranboo and Tubbo. Jack  _ was  _ the oldest, after all. “Why isn’t he out yet?”

“Well…” Sam sighed, running his free hand through his hair. “I have some bad news.”

“What happened?” Tubbo asked.

“Dream killed him,” Sam finally said, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “I tried to stop him but… it was too late.”

“What do you mean Dream killed him?” Ranboo’s heart dropped. Tommy was dead? And he’d died in the prison?

“He… he beat him to death. I tried to stop him after I heard what was happening but… I didn’t make it.”

Ranboo’s vision swam. Dream had killed Tommy, Ranboo’s first friend. He couldn’t be dead, Tommy wouldn’t just die like that.

But in the pit of his stomach, Ranboo knew it was true. Tommy had died at Dream’s hands, not as a hero, not happy, not even on his own accord. He’d died locked away with nobody to hear his cries for help, or to comfort him, or to tell him that he was going to be okay.

Beside him, Tubbo grabbed Ranboo’s arm, his eyes full of tears. “He… he can’t be.”

“I’m sorry, Tubbo,” Sam said, his gaze lowering to the floor. 

Jack was watching them all with narrowed eyes, his reaction unclear. He and Tommy had been friends, right?

“I need to… get back to the hotel,” he said softly. “Thanks for telling us Sam.”

Nobody responded as Jack turned and headed back up the Prime Path towards the hotel.

Ranboo was too stunned to say anything else. His mind was running through every moment with Tommy, everything the other boy had done, what had led up to this moment. 

“Ranboo, we should- we should go back to… the hotel.”

Ranboo nodded and blindly walked behind Tubbo as they returned to the hotel. The world was moving around him, but he was frozen.  _ What do I do _ ?

“I think I’m going to go,” Tubbo murmured, reaching for his axe that he’d left on the table. “I’m gonna head back to Snowchester.”

Ranboo nodded. “I’ll see you later, then.”

Tubbo nodded, and the silence was too awkward for Ranboo to bear. For once, he wanted Tubbo to leave so he could have a moment to himself, either to think things over or mourn on his own. 

Tubbo headed out the entrance without looking back and Ranboo sighed, slumping down against the wall. 

Dream killed him. Dream had actually killed him.

_ I could’ve told Sam about the Enderwalk. I could’ve told Sam what Dream had said. I could’ve done something to stop him, to prevent this from happening. But I didn’t _ .

There was a knock on the door and Ranboo sighed. “It’s unlocked.”

Sam walked in, setting his sword down on the table. “I came to talk to you.”

Ranboo just nodded, not able to bring himself to stand.

“I want to say sorry, Ranboo. I really tried to stop him but-”

“Don’t. You could’ve done something, Sam.”

The desire to blame someone, or anyone, other than himself, rose in his throat like bile. “You could’ve changed the protocol. You could’ve gotten him out of there.”

“It wouldn’t have been safe.”

“You could’ve risked it! You  _ knew  _ what Dream had done to Tommy and you didn’t help him at all!”

“I know,” Sam whispered, guilt raw in his voice. “Trust me, Ranboo, I know. But I have to follow the prison rules.”

Ranboo pressed his hands to his face. There was no point in being angry with Sam. Everyone was at fault; the adults had seen what was happening and done nothing. They’d sat back while a child was murdered when they could’ve at least tried to do  _ something _ . “He didn’t deserve to die like that.”

Sam knelt in front of Ranboo. “Can I see your memory book?”

Ranboo motioned to the journal sitting on the table. “Go ahead.”

Sam took the book and a pen, then started writing on a blank page. Ranboo sat up to peer over his shoulder. He wrote  _ Tommy is not my fault. What happened to Tommy was Sam’s fault. Sam is responsible. _

Ranboo opened his mouth to protest but Sam shook his head.”I’m not letting you blame yourself for this. You’re right, I could’ve done something. But I didn’t. And you need to remember that.”

Ranboo nodded. “Thanks, Sam.”

“I’ll find whoever lit off the TNT and kill them. I swear.”

“I’ll help you,” Ranboo promised, still gazing down at the words written in his memory book. He wouldn’t let Tommy’s death go unavenged. He deserved better.

**Tubbo**

The tunnel transport back to Snowchester took seconds, and Tubbo almost regretted not traveling by boat. He needed time to process.

His eyes were wet with tears, freezing against his skin as he tugged the hood of his coat up. 

His best friend was dead.

_ No, there’s no way _ .

Tommy couldn’t be dead. How could he be dead, after everything?

But would Sam have lied?

No.

His head hurt, and more than anything, Tubbo wanted to sleep all of this away. Maybe it was just a nightmare. Maybe he was losing it.

But the whip of the Snowchester winds was too real, as was the frigid air wrapping around him and reminding him all too well that this wasn’t a dream.

Tubbo settled on the steps of his house, gazing out at the refuge he’d constructed. Snowchester was a place of peace and freedom, where people could go to escape the wars and destruction. He’d built this as an escape, and yet he was unable to escape himself.

How could he accept this? How could he accept that Tommy had died at the hands of Dream, who’d spent his days torturing both of them?

_ Tommy wouldn’t have gone out like that _ .

Loud, obnoxious Tommy. Tommy, who’d defended Tubbo and kept him alive. 

Tubbo should’ve died first. He should’ve cared more when Tommy got trapped in the prison, or when Tommy needed help, or when Tubbo had first exiled him so long ago. 

Tubbo could’ve done so much to change what had happened. 

And yet, he hadn’t, and thinking about it didn’t change that his best friend was dead. 

Tommy didn’t even know that Tubbo had platonically married Ranboo, or that they’d started a rival hotel, or that they had an adopted son named Michael.

Or maybe Tubbo had been too wrapped up in his own life and had forgotten about Tommy. Maybe it was his fault.

Ranboo wouldn’t be taking this well. He’d been friends with Tommy for a while, and though sometimes they didn’t get along, they didn’t hate each other.

Why had everything gone to shit? Was it Tubbo’s fault? Or was it Dream’s? Could they even fix it?

_ I just want things to be happy and nice _ . Tubbo gazed over the gabled roofs of the few houses in Snowchester. This was the future he wanted, peaceful, and happy, and safe for everybody. He didn’t want his best friend to be dead.

_ Can I fix this? Is there a way I can fix this? _

But the truth settled like a stone at the bottom of the sea, honest and unmoving. There was no going back, and he’d most likely never even get to see Tommy’s corpse.

He’d died alone and afraid, with the one person who’d only ever tortured him.

Tubbo’s eyes burned, from the wind or the tears, he wasn’t sure.

“All this for a few discs,” he said with a bittersweet laugh. “You really fought until the end, pal.”

Tubbo stood and headed up the remaining steps to the door. His head rested against it for a few moments as he steadied himself, then he looked out at Snowchester once more, the snow, the ice, the lapping, freezing waters, the glaciers, the way the setting sun turned everything golden.

“I promise, Tommy,” he whispered, “that I will not let another one of my friends die. Ever.”

**Ranboo**

The flowers gripped in his fist were half dead and plucked randomly from beside the Prime Path, but they would have to be enough. Ranboo made his way to Tommy’s old home, a simple cave just on the Prime Path, with a simple door. He knelt, digging a few holes with his bare hands, then placing the roots of the flowers down. He covered them with dirt and stood, the entire process taking around twenty minutes, but he didn’t even realize. Ranboo’s head was too empty to acknowledge that time had passed whatsoever.

He brushed his hands off on his pants and gazed down at the poorly planted flowers.

“Tommy… I’m sorry.”

A tear slipped down his cheek and burned a trail. Ranboo flinched.

“I would’ve… I would’ve done something. I could’ve told someone.” He sighed. “I know what Sam said but… I could’ve told him about the enderwalk or about Dream or… or about anything. But I didn’t.”

He apologized again, and it wouldn’t change anything, but he felt like he needed to say it anyways. 

“I will do better from now on. That’s a promise.”

He stepped back, more burning tears gathering in his eyes. He turned away from Tommy’s old home and sighed. Those flowers were a reminder and a promise - one day, Ranboo would kill Dream. One day, Ranboo would fix everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was a lil sad when i finished this one up, been going through a lot tbh so kinda a vent chapter. lmk what else you guys wanna see from me, dnf, dsmp related, etc, etc. also gimme some feedback in the comments, i wanna know what to improve on :)

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading this :) hope you enjoyed, I can't wait to hear some feedback :))))


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